Yes, I said, I will Yes
by jm129
Summary: Princess Bubblegum and Marceline rejoin in matrimony and loving affection. The perspectives in this story constantly shift, as do person, and diction. This is my first fan-fic as it is an experiment. I wish to introduce literary elements into fan-fiction. Any words italicized are stream of consciousness, a literary element that is used to express the thoughts of the protagonist.
1. La mar, they call it

The sun is emerging and the sky basks with tawny colour. She flies over the ground which is baked brick-hard by prolonged exposure to the sun. The breeze flutters her dark hair which bounces ever so buoyantly in the mid summer's air. _Will she? I hope that anon she will. She must._

The palace is decedent and sits stately as she stares. Her eyes traverse the large edifice that sits before her. _She is locked in this gluttonous lifestyle. I must liberate her. _Her eyes continue to traverse the large castle. Her view passes the large windows and stern towers. She views the magnificent tiles that make up the roof. Finally, she views the balcony from afar, a large, glass door sits beyond it. She breathes in deeply and tastes the stale air around her. _Alright, I can do this. I prepared for this moment many times in my solemn mind. Nary has a thought entered my mind that has suggested that I do otherwise. _

Hovering in the sky, only a foot above the warm earth, she breathes in one final taste of innocent air, then she begins her ascension to the balcony. The air feels cool on her grey skin, which is made a shade darker do to the shadow cast by her large hat. Slowly she rises in ascension until she is level with the balcony. Upon reaching the balcony, she sits on the rail, her feet hanging over the side which faces towards the door. She reaches towards the door and knocks on the glass pane, doing so causes her nearly to fall off of the railing and on to floor. Staggering a moment, she settles herself back onto the railing and takes in a deep breathe. She has been shaking this entire time, for she is anxious.

"Who is rapping upon my chamber door?" cries a voice from beyond the pane. A knot fixes itself in her stomach. She feels sick. _Dominus! _ The door slowly opens to reveal the light of the innards of the castle. A pink women stands in the glorious light, her fair skin is glistening, her eyes swirl like the whirl of the ocean. _La mar they call it when it is feminine. When it is beautiful. The beautiful ocean. _The Woman sees the grey girl sitting on the railing. She is taken a back and stands stiff for a moment before speaking, "Marceline," her voice is frail, yet has a taste of eagerness.

Marceline still sits on the railing petrified from fear. She gulps before stuttering, "B-Bonnibel..," Her eyes examine Bonnibel's body; her thin, curvaceous figure is covered only by blue shorts and dark t-shirt. "You really are wearing it then," Marceline says. She examines the black garb. It is in a condition which is only attainable by excessive use. _Frail are and fair are her hands that gave._ Marceline's eyes find themselves back to bubblegum's visage. Her face reads that she is surprised, yet comfortable.

"Yes. I was not lying when I spake to you prior. This camise truly does mean much to me," replies Bonnibel. She looks down upon her shirt and feels the blood rush through her cheeks. She feels the warm blood gathering. "Why do you meet me hear during the dawn of the morning?" she asks. "It is unlike you to be up so early." Marceline looks her in her eyes. _La mar. _She feels blood gathering in her own face. It is warm.

"I… need to converse with you," she says. "I have something I need to say…."

"Very well, come inside," Bonnibel replies. Marceline hops off the railing and walks with her companion into the castle. The room is large, a king size bed lies in the middle of the room and is covered by regal curtains with golden trimmings. It smells like that of flowers and of the meadows that they use to know as children. _Changes have riddled her chambers well._ Bonnibel calls for her servants and upon them arriving, she sends them to wake up the royal chef so that he may cook breakfast. They humbly obey and leave the two alone in the decadent room.

"What is it that called you hither?" Bonnibel asks. "What question is it that you must ask?" Marceline looks at the ground, and her hand begins to rub the back of her neck. She then removes her large, farmer's hat and holds it in front of her. Her thumbs twiddle as she rubs the hat's brim.

"I wanted to tell you that I…" She stops speaking and bights her lip. Her eyes begin to water, but she wipes them so that the princess will not see her in such turmoil. Bonnibel speaks to her.

"No, I need to tell you something." Marceline is taken aback. Her eyes are staring at the beautiful princess. "I think I know why you're here. Nay, I KNOW why you have traveled hither to see me. And I must tell you, that you were right when you sang that lush song yesterday. You shouldn't apologies to me, for I must apologies to you," Marceline's eyes widen as she hears the words leave the princess's lips. "It was gratuitous of me to do what I did. I was presumptuous to try and change you like that. I didn't realize what repercussions would take place, and I apologies for my flagrance." _And thus she has spoken._ Bonnibel takes Marceline's hand. Marceline notices her warmth. They walk together out on the balcony as Marceline places her hat back upon her head. Bonnibel closes the glass door and faces Marceline, they both face each other. "Will you accept my apology?" she says.

"Yes," says Marceline. She leans forward and begins to kiss the princess in front of her. _So delicate is time's wan figure._ Bonnibel closes her eyes and slowly opens her mouth. They kiss. _Was it I that undertook that odyssey of burdens to seek you? And did I return to __thee__ meeting only the barrage of suitors, only to prove myself? And for you to riddle me under that great oak's trunk? Such were the days of a time that I must revisit._ The sun is in a position where it is directly behind the forest, casting immense shadows over the castle. Marceline breaks from Bonnibel as they both look into each other's eyes. _The sun shines over the glorious sea. _ "It's been so long. We have been without each other for many a year," Marceline breathes. She can feel the water scaling the side of her cheek.

"I don't wish to think of the withering past now, love so we shan't dwell upon such depraved thoughts," retorts the gentle princess. "All that matters is the present at hand and the glorious futures that we shall share." She pulls Marceline into another deep kiss. _You'll see us together, chasing the moonlight._ Their tongues are in twine much like that of their star-crossed fate. Pulling away from each other she speaks, "Go, my love, back to your chambers and dwell upon your emotions. Think of me while you play your songs of love. I must appease the royal court today, but I shall meet you at your home this evening, and to appease thou I shall court thee." Marceline smiles and kisses the forehead of the princess. She ascends upwards and her hand slides slowly away from bubblegum's. She flies away from the castle, reaching a distance of a couple of yards before turning around and shouting,

"AMO TU, BONNIBEL!" and thus, they part, and into the glorious spring day doth Marceline fly, eagerly anticipating the night that lies before her. _From which hither to shall the feeling of lust and life and love and all of the emotions of that which we know as happiness shall be toiled into her delicate form and chiseled and modeled like the gods have formed her, she has been the muse of all men and women of art, she is the pinnacle of creation and the Venus of desire and aesthetics, thus I am honored to feel her hand graze my shadow less figure. My Aphrodite, my Penelope, my muse. My Bonnibel._


	2. Half a league onward!

_ Glass flies out of every window in the surrounding area, edifices crumble and fire sprouts all along the ground. It has begun. Dirt and soot falls from the sky in slow, inconsistent intervals, it is as if it is snowing, and for a moment, it seems peaceful. All plant life is desecrated; the trees lie broken and burnt to a fine black colour. Craters are everywhere. Popping of rifles and explosives are heard in the distance by any survivors of the blast. Then it happens, the screaming. The loud whistle of heat and exhaust which has already struck them. It could move faster than it sounds. It only leaves its mark in sound waves after it has struck. The noise penetrates the atmosphere and it goes on for only a minute or two, yet it feels like an eternity. The evacuation never happened. There was no warning for such a catastrophic event; it was unprecedented to everyone in the city. _

_ She is only child, yet she is agile for if she wasn't she would have died. She flees from the rubble of concrete and metal. The soot continues to fall. She makes it too the woods where she sits underneath a dead oak tree, her legs draw up tightly to her chest. She buries her head into her arms and weeps. Mother, take me away! Mother, protect me! All noise seems to stop, motions begin to blur, and all she can hear is the sound of her breath. She only feels the cold air and the tears on her cheeks. None of the cuts or bruises on her body provides any pain to her. It is oddly tranquil. The sounds begin to fade in, and she can once more hear the sounds of the burning city. Where is the violin and where is Nero? Have all the works of the greats left us? Where are the works of those poets? Have they perished with the fires? Rome was not built in a day but a century, yet it was burnt in but one. Let it be so with this city._

_ The ground begins to shake violently. She springs to her feet and begins to run from the woods. The burnt grass withers away instantaneously as the ground splits into a deep rift. Shadows pour out of the chasm surrounding her as she tries to escape the dead Forrest. She stumbles and trips over an old root that protrudes out of the ground. The shadows have caught up with her. They grab her by the ankles and proceed to drag her into the deep rift. She claws for the ground, but she cannot grasp the earth before her. She sobs. The tears flow down her cheeks. Father, mother, help me! She is pulled down into the chasm; all pressure leaves her body as she sinks into the pit. She seems weightless as she slowly continues to fall. All thoughts leave her mind and the tears stop flowing. The shadows return, but rather than harm her, they cradle and envelop her. She is warm and feels safe for a moment, and then the eyes appear in the sky. They bleed for her. Forward, they charge into the valley of death._

Marceline wakes up in her bed. She is sobbing uncontrollably yet she does not manage to notice this until a few moments of consciousness. The room is completely shrouded in darkness and she can only see the objects that are very close to her. She notices that she seems to be completely nude. Bonnibel's head lies on her chest, it rises and falls with each breath that Marceline takes. She is sleeping quite contempt. _You and I missed the starting gun, didn't we? I'm so sorry my dear. _She places her hand on the exposed shoulder of the princess. Bonnibel wakes up and looks at her lover. She notices the tears that run down Marceline's cheeks. She sits up instantaneously, the bed sheet slides across her exposed chest.

"What is wrong, love?" she asks with emphatic concern. Marceline pulls her into a sorrowful embrace as she sobs. The tears find their way onto the shoulder of the princess. _These are the waters of life that present themselves to us. _She holds Bonnibel as close as she can, she can feel the reassuring touch of Bubblegum's hands. She feels the hands of her lover stroking her back. _My enemies have beaten me to the pit! But lo, I shan't stagger in death's gaze! _

"Hold me, my love," Marceline begs. "Please, do not leave me to wallow by myself in this wicked form."

"I will never leave you, my love," Bonnibel replies.

"If my form be twisted and malformed?"

"I shan't leave,"

"If the world tells us we shall part?"

"Then we shall till the land until it begs for our union,"  
"And if you shall grow wearisome of my sad figure?"

"Nary shall a thought enter my mind suggesting that. You are my love, my muse, and my goddess to adore. To part with thee would only grant my eternal sorrow. I shall never leave thee in thy time of needing me, and I shall live to comfort thee. Rest assured, Marceline, that as long as my form staggers this wholesome land, as long as I am breathing in this content, wicked world we know, I shall live to love thee,"

Marceline pulls Bonnibel into a deep kiss; the affections of the gods surround them. _Love loves to love love. Tis true, I know from experience. This goddess, this perfectly painted body, this nymph. Her words. They sing so sweetly. My ears are tickled with the lovely sound of her voice. What deed have I done so righteously in order to earn such love? Has all that I know to be good cultivated into this one perfect form? _ Bubblegum pulls away and kisses her neck, sucking with gentle pleasure. _Half a league onward!_ She feels Bonnibel's hand fondling her breast; she feels her fingers stoking the areola and then the nipple itself. Her other hand relocates itself. _All in the valley of death rode the six hundred! _She realizes that the hand has begun to voyage past her Mons pubis and now has begun to rub the vulva. She intervenes, grabbing the princess's hands.

"Not now my dear. I wish not to make love again until a later time," she says and thrust herself into another deep kiss with the princess. Their tongues rub against one another, caressing and holding themselves together. In unison they move, they are one. _Charge for the guns, he said! _They fall on their sides, still holding the passionate kiss. They pull apart as Marceline whispers "I love you."

"I love you too," the princess says. "Let us rest. Tomorrow I will not let the court distract me like they did this day. Tomorrow we shall be together. And thus, we shall be happy," Together they lie. Bubblegum falls asleep in the arms of her loving lover, she once again rests her head on Marceline's chest. _Into the valley of death rode the six hundred._


End file.
